Driving in New York City is a Terrible Torture
by GoddessOfNight08
Summary: As the title says, it's awful. England hates to attend conferences in NYC, but the only thing he can to is suck is up and ask a fellow nation to help him out! Unfortunately, America develops the same attitude as other New Yorkers! Bewares of a stream of terrible curse words from Alfred! Rated M for no other reason then several choice words.


**Author's note: **So my best friend and I were driving home together in her car when the cars behind us were getting impatient as we were waiting to turn to get to my apartment, and I had been watching this video on YouTube earlier, so I made her laugh by repeating Jenna Marbles. Look up her video: What Girls Do In the Car. Alfred's cuss storm came from that :D

* * *

England hated New York City more than any other city on Earth.

The people were loud, rowdy, rude, obnoxious drivers, and just general assholes. So when the World Conference was announced to be held in the AMA Conference Center in that very city, he cursed loudly to Francis, raving about how much he hated it.

Even worse, was the fact he couldn't drive in those loud, crowded streets. It took the skills of a New Yorker to navigate those streets safely enough, but the Brit really couldn't stand going by taxi either. So with a sigh of resignation, he called America.

"_Hey, Iggy!" _Alfred's voice crowed on the other end, making Arthur roll his eyes.

"Hello, and do not call me that." He growled into the speaker, but Alfred just laughed.

"_Yeah, whatever! Anyways, what's up, dude?"_

England gritted his teeth at the lack of proper English. "I need a ride from the airport to the World Conference."

"_Totally man! Just lemme know when your flight gets to LaGuardia and I'll be there for ya, bro!"_

"HAVE YOU EVER _LOOKED_ AT A GRAMMAR BOOK, ALFRED?!" England lost it, screaming at the younger nation. After a few minutes of yelling, Arthur finally calmed down. "Anyways… where are you?" he demanded.

"_Oh, I'm actually in my flat in Manhattan, so when's your flight coming in?"_

"4:40 PM, tomorrow."

"_Don't sweat it dude! You wanna stay in my guest bedroom, or are you renting a hotel?"_

"My hotel is 'W New York Times Square", he informed Alfred who was quiet for a moment.

"…_Isn't that on, um… Broadway and 47__th_?"

"Yeah, why?"

"_No reason, it's good that you got a hotel just a block away_!" England could hear the smile in America's voice, and he sighed.

"Thank you, just be on time tomorrow, alright? Git." He said, and with a confirmation from Alfred, he hung up the phone.

-X-

He exited to the baggage claim, calling up Alfred.

"_Hello?"_

"Where are you, git?" England demanded, retrieving his bags.

"_I'm just outside of Customs, waiting for you already, dude." _Alfred said. "_Hurry up, Iggy, there's a Sox game in an hour and a half!" _

"YOU CAN WAIT!" he yelled, but it went largely unnoticed by the people who were all loud as well. Only those in the immediate vicinity even looked at him.

He finally exited Customs, looking around. He finally saw the idiot, wearing skinny jeans tucked into red high top Converse that were really only laced about half way, and a grey hoodie underneath a black leather jacket. He had his SkullCandy headphones on, head banging slightly to something playing from his iPhone.

Arthur walked up to him, and he didn't notice the smaller man to his left for a few moments, before the Brit smacked his arm.

"Ow!" he looked down, only to smile. "Hey, Iggy!" he greeted, hugging the other, making him blush.

"Shut it you git and take me to my hotel." He ordered, making Alfred pout and cross his arms behind his head.

"Meanie," he huffed, walking ahead of England, who followed Al out of the airport, and to the parking lot to get in his 2012 Jeep Grand Cherokee. "Wanna go out for a bite to eat?"

"No, Alfred, I am tired and would like to go to my hotel." England sighed, and Alfred nodded, being considerate for once.

As they got out of the airport area and got straight into Upper East Side Manhattan, just around rush hour, it was hell. They were stuck in traffic, and Alfred was acting like a true New Yorker, much to Arthur's irritation. Some guy behind them had been honking too much.

"Stop ridin' my ass, brah!" Alfred yelled at his real view mirror. "You wanna lick my ass? Ass licking, ball sack, motherfucking, cock bitch, cunt sucker…" he opened his driver's window, flicking off the guy. Arthur stared at him, wide eyed. It wasn't very often Alfred got this… wordy.

"Alfred!" he reprimanded, swatting him on the arm. "Behave yourself!"

Alfred gave him a side glare, sighing loudly. "Yeah, whatever." Just then, traffic started moving again, preventing more road rage.

They finally arrived at the hotel without any more incidents, and Alfred insisted on going upstairs to watch the game on Arthur's hotel room T.V, since he wouldn't be able to make it back to his flat for the game. Arthur merely nodded and went to shower before going to bed, simply telling Alfred to leave when the game was over.

-X-

Arthur woke up to the rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains of his hotel room. He groaned, wondering what it was that had woken him, but as he came to consciousness further, he realized someone was snoring.

He crawled out of bed, heading for the other room, and saw Alfred draped across the couch, still dressed fully, snoring as he appeared to be somewhat uncomfortable.

"…ALFRED!" he yelled, jolting the American awake.

"What!" he responded, tumbling off the couch. The younger groaned, rubbing a sore place in his neck. "Oh… fell asleep… Jeez, England, way to wake a dude…" he yawned.

"You bloody wanker, the conference is in two hours. Go home and dress yourself appropriately!" he commanded, and Alfred nodded a bit complacently. It was too early for him to adequately fight with Arthur, so he just got up and went home.

England sighed, locking the door behind the American. He knew this was just the beginning of a long day.


End file.
